


The Difference a Decade Makes

by AuroraNova



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Gen, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:54:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraNova/pseuds/AuroraNova
Summary: If anyone had told Kira ten years ago that she would consider Julian a good friend, she'd have laughed at them. If they'd told her the Cardassians would give her an award? She'd have been deeply concerned for that person's grasp on reality. And yet, here she is.
Relationships: Julian Bashir & Kira Nerys, background Julian Bashir/Elim Garak - Relationship
Comments: 22
Kudos: 153





	The Difference a Decade Makes

**Author's Note:**

> Playing a bit with past-to-present tense and my personal headcanon that Julian and Kira would grow closer post-war.

If anyone had told Kira ten years ago that she would consider Julian Bashir a friend, she would’ve laughed and never taken that person’s opinion seriously again. And yet, here she is.

Her original stance on Julian (that he was obnoxious and needed to shut up) softened over the years. Eventually she found herself glad he was the CMO. It wasn’t until after the Dominion War, though, that she realized somewhere along the line they’d moved from friendly colleagues to real friends. That had snuck up on her. 

Once Ezri left to go someplace Jadzia had never been, claiming that coming to DS9 had been the right thing for her but staying would be a mistake, Kira and Julian fell into a habit of having breakfast together. It started as one morning a week and soon progressed to three. They were both lonely. This went on for some months, during which time Julian offered invaluable support as Kira found her way in her new role commanding the station. She had a lot on her mind, which was probably why it took her a long time to ask, “Shouldn’t you be getting a promotion?”

Julian couldn’t hide his disappointment. “I’m not holding my breath.”

“Why?”

“I was told I could stay in Starfleet. No promises were made about career advancement.”

“Is this about your genes again?” She’d never understood the problem in the first place. Something to do with Earth history, Sisko had explained, but Kira didn’t know why one tyrant from hundreds of years ago was supposed to have a thing to do with Julian. Bajorans didn’t typically utilize genetic alterations, but that was because they generally thought the Prophets gave them the genes they were intended to have. Knowing how much good Julian had done, Kira figured Julian had the genes he was intended to have, too. He’d just gotten them a little later.

“What else?” he asked, and changed the subject.

A few weeks after that, Kira read a Starfleet report about the Federation Relief Corps. (She never realized just how many reports Sisko had to read until she took command herself.) It said that Starfleet personnel were now able to volunteer their services for a year, instead of six months, and she noted that Cardassia was listed as a destination. It came in last when ranked by number of Federation volunteers.

“Maybe you should join the relief effort on Cardassia,” she told Julian over breakfast the next day. They’d be thrilled to have him, she was sure. And she had a feeling he’d end up near Garak (not that Garak would ever admit to meddling with official Federation assignments), which would be good for him because for reasons Kira would never understand, getting caught up in debates about life, philosophy, and the universe was great fun for Julian. He missed those conversations badly. 

He did like playing springball with her, but she knew it wasn’t the same.

“I have responsibilities here,” he said.

“I didn’t mean to leave today.”

He made a noncommittal noise and took a bite of his breakfast. Kira knew a desire not to talk about something when she saw one (more than Julian ever did), so she asked how the previous night’s symphony was. She’d been caught up in a minor crisis with the Minister of Interstellar Trade. Julian said she hadn’t missed much.

It didn’t make sense, though. She and Julian had both started out in a similar place when their friends left. Kira wasn’t there anymore. She still missed them, yes, but she didn’t spend as much time staring at the wormhole thinking of Odo or in general melancholy, and she had good news to report when she talked with Ezri. She was really starting to trust her senior staff and had developed a friendship with the couple who opened a bakery on the Promenade, where they made the best moba tarts she’d ever tasted.

Julian wasn’t moving on the same way. As far as Kira could tell, he was trying not to mope and only managing it when throwing himself into medical research which was not getting published in the more prestigious journals since his genetic engineering had been revealed (the last fact she learned from Ezri). She wondered if he was afraid of leaving DS9, but that didn’t seem like him. 

The answer came to her a week and a half later, after she’d finished her prayers for the evening: he stayed for her. Fear of something new wasn’t like Julian. An overdeveloped sense of responsibility absolutely was.

And he’d been right, in a way. She  _ had _ needed him at first, while she was dealing with a new command, new officers, and Starfleet bureaucracy. She’d relied on his steady presence, his knowledge, and their shared history. Plus, she could lose her temper a bit with him and he wouldn’t take it personally.

It had been a little over a year, and she would be alright without him. Kira couldn’t ask him to stay any more than she could have made the same request of Ezri, so she downloaded an application for the Federation Relief Corps, filled in his name, selected Cardassia, and gave him the PADD the next time they had breakfast.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Look and see.”

He glanced at the screen. “This again.”

“You’re not meant to stay here.” Of this Kira was absolutely sure.

After a long pause and two sips of tea, Julian finally said, “I suppose I’m not.”

“The station won’t fall apart without you,” she said, and she meant,  _ I won’t fall apart without you. _

“No. I don’t think it will.”

He left for Cardassia six weeks later. Officially, he was volunteering for a year, but Kira never expected him to come back to stay. Whether or not he realized that, she couldn’t say. Maybe he wasn’t ready for that truth just yet. In any event, she’d been right.

Oh, he came back, just never for long. He returned in a year because Starfleet wouldn’t let him resign without a thorough debriefing, and then they went to Starbase 198 for Ezri’s zhian’tara (Julian offered to host Joran, because of course he did). He came back when the O’Briens visited, and most recently for Kira’s thirty-sixth birthday. Multiples of twelve were significant birthdays to Bajorans. Traditionally, the night before was spent reflecting with people who’d shared the years with you. Kira had been incredibly touched when Julian and Ezri both showed up for the occasion. They’d shared a bottle of springwine, and then a couple more of synthwine, and stayed up so late it was early.

So Julian is definitely her friend, and to her surprise that friendship didn’t fade away when he made Cardassia his home. The downside of this is that she made the mistake of mentioning she had a date coming up, and Julian evidently subscribes to the Jadzia Dax philosophy of friends being permitted nosiness about dates. Jadzia had been a major influence in Kira’s life, and even four years after her death Kira still misses her.

She could do without Julian taking his cues from Jadzia’s example in this particular case, though. Her comm chimes with an incoming call before she’s even fully dressed for the day, and if she were a gambler, she’d bet it’s Julian. 

It’s a good thing she’s not a gambling woman. She’d have lost, which suits her. It was a good date. She enjoyed herself and hopes for a second date, but that doesn’t mean she wants to share all the details. The call is from Cardassia, though.

“Hello, Colonel,” says Garak.

Ten years ago, Kira wouldn’t have believed that she would get along well enough with Garak, either. They’re not friends. They really don’t have much in common except Julian, Ziyal’s memory, and a short time spent in Damar’s resistance. (And the fact that they’ve both done terrible things in the service of the planet they love, but that’s not something Kira ever intends to discuss with Garak.)

She does respect him now, and the feeling is evidently mutual. Garak has devoted himself to reforming Cardassia, which she knows from Julian is hard and mostly thankless work. Julian also says Garak could’ve taken over the whole Cardassian Union if he’d wanted to, and he may well be right about that, but instead Garak uses his seat on the Detapa Council to advocate for Cardassian self-sufficiency and less militarism. If nothing else, Kira likes those goals. A Cardassian Union which can meet its own needs could save many other planets from suffering as Bajor did, so if Garak can get his people to stop thinking conquest is the best solution to their problems, she’s all for it.

He’s an excellent husband to Julian, too. Kira has eyes. Even if she can’t fathom what Julian sees in Garak, there’s no doubt in her mind that Garak loves him fiercely, and she doesn’t need to understand any more than that.

Anyway, while Kira and Garak are on amicable enough terms, they don’t seek each other out for conversations. He’s never called before, so her first reaction is fear that something is very wrong with Julian.

“Is Julian okay?” she asks.

“Oh, yes. I expect him home any minute now, provided he managed to tear himself away from his research on time.”

That’s a relief. Kira has lost more than her share of people in her life. She doesn’t want to add Julian to that list. “Since when does Julian leave his research at the end of a workday?”

“My definition of ‘on time’ includes an additional hour past the scheduled end of his shift. We mere mortals cannot hope to compete with the allure of the Tellarite reaction to  _ lkel _ bites.” Garak says the last line with incredible fondness.

Julian fully expected to spend his time on Cardassia treating Cardassians. Instead, the Federation Relief Corps took one look at his application and decided he was perfectly suited to take over for the outgoing Medical Director, whose job it was to keep all the other volunteers healthy. He was based in the capital, so Garak hadn’t even needed to do… whatever it was he would have done to get Julian nearby. Hack computers, probably.

These days, with the Relief Corps recently departed, Julian is the Chief of Offworld Medicine at Cardassia City’s largest hospital. The planet is more open to visitors than it used to be. That’s still not saying much, but it’s enough that they need someone who knows how to treat other species. He’s happy in the role. The Federation’s ridiculous prejudice is Cardassia’s gain.

“No, Colonel, I’m calling - unofficially, of course - to inform you that you’ve been selected to receive the Ch’tara Brooch.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“It is awarded to individuals who have exemplified service to Cardassia in extraordinary fashion. The Detapa Council, as part of our ongoing effort to improve relations with Bajor, has voted to bestow this honor upon you for your role in assisting Damar’s rebellion.”

That’s a change. Last Kira knew, the Cardassian government hadn’t been eager to advertise that they’d needed a former Bajoran Resistance fighter’s help. It didn’t bother her. Julian was far more offended on her behalf. It ranked very low on the list of ways Cardassians have ever wronged her, and anyway, she fought for Bajor and the rest of the Alpha Quadrant.

“Please don’t misunderstand me,” continues Garak, “Your actions alone merit the Brooch. We would not sully its importance by giving it to someone who has not earned it.”

She hadn’t misunderstood, mostly because she doesn’t care much. If the Detapa Council wants to give her an award, she’ll accept it in the name of good relations, but it isn’t going to retroactively add any more meaning to what she did. She’s never cared about Cardassian approval, and in fact finds it a little uncomfortable due to longstanding habit. 

She fought for Bajor. She’ll always fight for Bajor. 

“I’m just glad Cardassia is committed to improving relations with us,” she says. It’s hard more often than not, on both ends. Cardassians aren’t used to thinking of Bajorans as equals. Meanwhile, plenty of her people still want to punish Cardassia, and Kira can’t say she blames them. She used to be one of them. 

Garak nods. “The Ch’tara Brooch is always awarded in a surprise ceremony. However, considering the diplomatic significance, I think advance notice is wise in this case.”

“So I should act surprised?” That shouldn’t be too hard. There were many times when Kira thought Cardassians would kill her. She never expected them to give her an award. 

“It would be best.”

“Are there any other diplomatic considerations?” She’s getting better with those. They’ll never be her strongest point, but she gets by without causing any interstellar incidents. It turns out she learned a lot more from Captain Sisko than she’d realized. 

“Recipients are expected to accept the Brooch with humility.”

“How about, ‘I was just doing my part to defeat the Dominion?’” This is how she views it, anyway. She spent too long fighting for a free Bajor to let her world fall under a new oppressor. 

“That will do nicely,” says Garak. “You’re expected to allow a member of the Council to pin the Brooch. I will endeavor to take that role myself. In future official interactions with Cardassia, be sure to wear the Brooch.”

“Thanks for telling me about this.” The last thing she needs is to hurt Bajor’s slowly-improving relationship with Cardassia because she’s shocked. 

“Think nothing of it. The recipient traditionally invites the Council members to join in a toast to Cardassia. As you could not be expected to know that, I will inform you once we have presented your Brooch. You might consider a suitable alternative toast.”

That’s not her strong point, either. “Peaceful coexistence?”

“A bit too, shall we say, direct for the occasion. It could be taken as offense where I am sure none is meant.”

It’s a good thing Garak called. Only Cardassians could interpret peaceful coexistence as an insult. She tries again. “My other ideas are Cardassia and Bajor, or Damar.” She’d be surprised if Garak doesn’t have suggestions ready for her.

“Either would be acceptable, but honoring Damar’s memory is an inspired choice.”

“It is?” 

“Certainly. It incorporates humility and reflects on interspecies cooperation in a less pointed fashion, while remembering a beloved Cardassian hero will make a good impression, not to mention it’s untraditional enough that it will seem spontaneous.” 

“I was thinking that he killed a friend to save my life.” Even if his friend was a terrible person. 

Garak doesn’t appear to share her view. “You were never in any danger from Rusot. I could’ve killed him before he killed you. It was better for Damar to understand what had to be done, however. I’d hoped he would lead Cardassia into a new future.”

“So did I,” says Kira. She thought he was the best option for Bajor. As it turns out, Garak isn’t doing too badly there. Garak is not officially the Chair of the Detapa Council, but she’s pretty sure he’s the most powerful member all the same. 

“Damar was awarded the Ch’tara Brooch posthumously. Ah, here is Julian now. Good evening, dear.”

“Hello. Is that Nerys?” Julian pulls up a chair and joins Garak in front of the camera. “How was your date?”

* * *

Thanks to Garak, Kira is prepared two weeks later when a Cardassian ship docks and three members of the Detapa Council request an audience with her right there on the Promenade. 

“Colonel Kira Nerys,” says Garak very formally, “in the judgement of the Detapa Council, you have earned a Ch’tara Brooch for your great service to Cardassia in the rebellion which freed us from the tyranny of the Dominion. We present you with the Brooch in recognition of your unique and exemplary actions.”

She duly admires the pin he’s holding out. It’s two overlapping ovals with the emblem of the Cardassian Union in the center. Not something she’ll wear unless she has to. Still, she can appreciate that the Detapa Council is making an effort to acknowledge her as an equal, and that’s something she never used to think would happen. 

“I was just doing my part to defeat the Dominion.”

All three Council members look pleased with her response. Garak steps forward and pins the brooch to her uniform. It’s heavy, but she’s never gotten the impression Cardassians care much for comfort. Or maybe they have very different standards for comfort. 

“As we must all fill our roles,” replies Garak. “Nevertheless, it is important to recognize service of such magnitude as yours. We must set an example for the next generation.”

Imagine that. She’s an example of interspecies cooperation for the next generation now, on Cardassia of all places. Garak has clearly been very busy with his reforms. 

“It is customary to drink a toast,” Garak suggests. 

“I can offer you some springwine,” she says, and leads them into Quark’s.

Once they all have glasses, Kira lifts hers. “To Legate Damar. May his legacy endure.”

Garak nods approvingly, while the other two councilors look pleasantly surprised. One of them - neither bothered to introduce themselves, which is very Cardassian - lifts his glass and adds, “And to the next generation, for whom we strive to leave better worlds.”

Kira will drink to that. She is a child of the Occupation, and it shaped her in ways time will never entirely change. She doesn’t want any more Bajoran teenagers to know what it’s like to kill or be killed, or children to be so hungry they eat tree bark, or anyone to bury their brothers as young as she did. Her scars will always be there, but she can make a better future so others don’t have to go through the same experiences. 

“To the next generation,” she echoes, and they all drink. She’s fairly sure at least one of the councilors hates springwine and is only sipping it to be polite, which she enjoys more than she probably should.

Later, Julian comms to congratulate her and tells her he’s sorry he couldn’t be there for the ceremony, but the other councilors would’ve been suspicious if he was. 

“Cardassians find everything suspicious,” she says.

He laughs in agreement. “The brooch is probably unnecessarily heavy and uncomfortable, too.”

“How did you know?”

“Cardassians never let comfort get in the way of a strong statement.”

“I still don’t know how you can live there.” It sounds exhausting, with all the things people apparently worry about. 

Julian shrugs. “I’m granted certain eccentricities as long as I make a good faith effort to fit in. And I like a challenge.”

Kira has enough challenges without going looking for any more. She has for her entire life, so Julian’s enthusiasm for a new one used to annoy her. Now she accepts that it’s just who he is. 

“You’re the first non-Cardassian to receive a Ch’tara Brooch, you know,” he says.

“I’m sure the traditionalists are complaining about it as we speak.”

“At the moment they’re more concerned with a children’s book. Apparently, writing that a Cardassian child can play happily with a human child is somehow going to ruin Cardassian society. I’m sure they’ll get around to complaining about your Ch’tara Brooch soon, though.”

“I’d be surprised if they didn’t.” Honestly, she’s surprised that Garak’s reforms have found as much support as they have. She thinks the Cardassian people must have already been ready for change. Realizing that over a billion of them died because of Dukat’s ego and lust for power was the final blow to the old order. 

“I can only be thankful they’re the minority, but enough about them. Are you doing anything to celebrate?”

“No.”

Julian disapproves. “Nothing at all?”

“I notified diplomatic and government officials about the latest development in Bajoran-Cardassian relations.” 

“That’s not a celebration.”

“It’s all I need.” Her friends on the station now aren’t the kind to insist on making a big deal whether she wants to or not, which is fine by her. Kira has never been motivated by recognition. 

Julian doesn’t look convinced but decides to let it go. “Have you decided what you’re doing on leave next month?”

“I’m going hiking in the Eastern Province.”

_ That _ is her reward for all the fighting: enjoying a free and thriving Bajor. While marks of the Occupation still linger on the planet as well as the people, they’ve made great progress in the past ten years. Even land around the Malenka mine, where the Cardassians allowed pollution at appalling levels, is starting to grow new plants thanks to some environmental detoxification technology on loan from the Federation. She hears the river will be next. A brooch means nothing to her, but walking on a free Bajor which isn’t under threat is everything. 

Julian is a great believer in the importance of time away from work, and he won’t hesitate to tell her if she thinks it’s been too long since she last had some. He’s happy with her answer. “Tell me if it’s as beautiful as I’ve been led to believe.”

“I will.” She’s never had a chance to spend time in the Eastern Province, and she’s looking forward to it. 

“I’m still working on getting Elim to Risa.”

Kira has never been interested in Risa, and can’t picture Garak there either. “Good luck with that.”

“I’ve decided if he won’t come, next year I’ll see if Ezri wants to meet up there, and he can stay at home complaining to himself about how degenerate Risa is. Oh! How was your latest date?”

Ten years ago, Kira would’ve wanted to smack him for that question. Now, even if she doesn’t feel the need to talk about her date (which was a lot of fun), she knows it means Julian cares. And that’s a good feeling. 


End file.
